A Whole New Universe (Of Problems)
by Lexarius
Summary: Moya arrived to Earth in time to witness Third Impact. To late to do anything to stop the Apocalypse. But just in time to rescue the last survivors of NERV and the human race.
1. There Goes the (Solar) Neighbourhood

_**A Whole New Universe (Of Problems)**_

* * *

 _ **Please Read and Review.**_ _I'd like to know what I'm doing right (to keep doing it), and what I'm I doing wrong (to correct it)._

* * *

"Pilot? Are you seeing this?" Aeryn Sun, ex-Peacekeeper, spoke into her comm, keeping her eyes on the horrifying image on the sensors.

It was Earth, the birth planet of her life partner, John Chrichton. But just as Moya was entering orbit, a light like they never had seen before exploded over a place John called 'Japan'. The light coalesced, and _something_ grew from the surface of the planet. Chrichton himself stood next to Aeryn, almost paralyzed by the image.

Moya's crew could only watch as what looked like a giant teenage girl raised her head over the planet, holding her hands apart, while a sickly tide of red light and crimson shadow covered the world, and a myriad of crosses made of light erupted at its wake.

A ball made of points of light grew and grew between the giant's hands. It was as if she had a swarm of fireflies in her hands. From their place, they couldn't see the giant's face. The apparition glowed with inner light, like a frozen moonbeam.

John, Aeryn and Rygel stood immobile, watching, unable to believe their eyes. Rygel mumbled something; maybe a prayer, maybe a curse. Pilot's voice drew them back from their horror. "I... I am seeing, Officer Sun. Moya is most distressed by this. She is... she is weeping." In the image of the holographic shell, Pilot's mouth hanged open wide in amazement.

Suddenly, responding to instincts honed by several years of living on the edge, John Chrichton's hand drew his gun in a lightning fast move, pointing at a fourth person on the bridge.

"And just WHO the Frell ARE _**YOU**_?" Chrichton wasn't in a good mood. To be honest, he tended to not to be in a good mood most of the time anyway, but the day had been particularly tiring, even before this Apocalypse. He spoke on his comm, "Pilot! We have an intruder!"

The voice of Pilot sounded far away, "I see her, John, but cannot find how she got into Moya!" The group could see Pilot's face bobbing and swaying, almost cropping itself out of the holoimage, a sure sign his four arms were busily manipulating his control console. "She just appeared from nothing. She's not even registering on several of Moya's senses!"

"How did you get in Moya? What do you want?" Rygel addressed the intruder, from his floating throne, more than a little alarmed. The intruder paid absolutely no attention to the diminutive Hynerian Dominar in exile.

The apparition looked at the crew/passengers/escaped convicts in Moya. Her pale skin, red eyes and blue hair enerved everybody, mostly because her face showed not a single iota of _any_ emotion. Not even her body language gave any hint of her purpose.

With the discipline of a soldier, Aeryn Sun pointed her guns at the intruder. One at her belly, the other right between her scarlet eyes. The girl simply stood there, unafraid of the three weapons pointing at her.

The strange girl looked from one to the other, until her eyes fixed on John, staring at him as if looking into his very soul. She tilted her head, studying him, and seemed to glow from inside. Except for her unusual pigmentation and thin adolescent body, she looked like a sebacean teenaged female, completely naked. Her arms hanged limply at her sides.

While Aeryn covered the intruder, John's hard look softened; with a quizzical look, he lowered his own weapon. "Aeryn, honey? Lower your gun, please." He whispered, his rough voice strangely mellow; he kept his eyes on the intruder, while making downwards movements towards Aeryn with his free hand, palm down.

The intruder walked one step closer to Chrichton. The exiled Earthling's brow furrowed.

Reluctantly, seeing that the intruder had not made any sudden or threatening moves, Aeryn obeyed and lowered her guns.

Slowly, John got closer to the strange girl. She extended a hand towards him, John mimicked the gesture.

Just as their hands were about to touch, Aeryn heard John mutter a single word.

"Mom?"

As their fingers made contact, John Chrichton ceased to be. Several gallons of orange liquid fell on Moya's floor. His clothes fell heavily on the floor. His gun clattered against the metallic deck.

The strange girl's scarlet eyes fell on Aeryn, "You are not a true daughter of Lilith. Your soul is not accepted into the Human Instrumentality. You are free to go."

Aeryn reacted in horror, her fingers squeezed the triggers of her weapons as she screamed in rage and loss. Still, her shots were now aimed to disable, not to kill.

The energy shots impacted against the apparition, making no noticeable damage. The shots simply passed through her body, impacting the bulkheads behind her.

The girl disappeared.

The only proof of her visit was a puddle of orange liquid, slowly spreading on the floor.

Aeryn knelt, picked up John's leather vest, holding it up against her chest for a moment. Her eyes shone wetly. Suddenly, her face set on a determined gesture, her lips thin and bloodless.

She picked up John's beloved gun, Winona, he had named it, for reasons only he understood.

"Pilot!" She yelled on her comm. There was no answer. "PILOT!" She repeated.

"I... am sorry, Officer Sun. It was the surprise."

"I want you to analyse everything that happened here in the last fifteen hundred microts. I want you to go over everything, understood? Energy traces, pheromone emissions, voice signature. Every single thing you can think of that could be useful. Then it will be my turn. Then we compare notes! I want to know who she was, where did she come from, what she did to John, and where did she go. But more important, I want to know how to undo it! Got it?"

"Understood, Officer Sun. I'll do my best. I'll send the DRDs to your position immediately."

Tense as a bowstring, she ran to the supplies room, soon, she returned to the bridge holding a metallic box. With Rygel's somewhat reluctant help, she gathered all the orange goo she could, along with John's clothes, soaking wet with the strange, blood-smelling liquid, and sealed it all in the box.

Only then she allowed herself a choked sob.

At that moment, Ka D'Argo and Chiana entered the bridge, their hair looking as if they had been running during a storm.

"What did we miss? Did we arrive to Urth already?" a smiling Ka D'Argo asked, holding Chiana's shoulders with his right arm.

When they saw Aeryn's face, their smiles were wiped from their faces.

* * *

 _"My name is John Chrichton.  
Astronaut  
Three years ago I got shot through a wormhole  
To a distant part of the Universe  
Aboard a ship, a _**living** _ship of escaped prisoners  
I made friends  
I made enemies  
Powerful enemies, dangerous enemies  
All I wanted was to find a way back home, to warn Earth  
Look upwards and share the wonders I have seen.  
But Earth is dead. Everybody is gone, except for the few traumatized survivors.  
There is nothing left for us here.  
Our destiny is among the stars."_

* * *

 _ **Chapter 1  
...There Goes the (Solar) Neighbourhood...**_

* * *

The sunlight hit harshly on John Chrichton's eyes. He blinked several times. He winced and rubbed his eyes. "Maaaan... DK really knows how to throw a party...", he mumbled.

He rolled on his bed, and promptly fell down. Once on the floor, he grabbed for the edge of the bed and pulled himself up.

Once he checked he was more or less stable on his feet, he poured a glass of water and drank it in a couple of gulps, followed by another. _'Hydration... I need to re-hydrate.'_ He poured a third glass, dropping a couple of efervescent aspirins in it for good measure, he waited until they finished bubbling away, and drank his third glass of water in five minutes.

Soon he felt good enough to go to the bathroom.

"...ooohh..." He grabbed the sink for a moment, and then he looked at himself on the mirror. He looked like a zombie half-revived. The alarm clock chose that moment to ring. Chrichton grabbed his head, ran/stumbled to the night table, and pushed the button to shut the contraption up.

Just as he sighed in relief, his cellphone rang. He answered the call, and lay down on his bed once again. "Hello?" He sat immediately. "Mom? Yeah... Yeah, I'm awake; more or less... No, I haven't forgotten, I will pick you up in..." he looked at his watch "...four hours. Yes, I have your flight number; I will be there with Dad. See you. I love you. Bye." He hanged up. For a moment, his eyes lost focus.

He felt that something was terribly wrong. He shook his head and went back to the bathroom. He needed to shower and eat something. And wake up, that was important.

 _Wake up._

* * *

In a perfect world, a man hugged his wife. They had had an awful quarrel just the day before, she had practically bitten his head off, but they had reconciled after a heartfelt apology on his part.

* * *

"Zhaan, come to the bridge, right now."

"Sorry, Aeryn. I can't go now." The delvian priestess answered, stress clearly noticeable in her voice. Aeryn heard a coarse scream in the background.

"What's going on, Zhaan?" Aeryn furrowed her brow. She had recognized the source of the scream.

"Stark is having some kind of stroke. I have my hands full now trying to calm him!"

"TOO MUCH! TOO MANY! THE BLACK SPHERE IS FULL! STANDING PLACE ONLY! EVERYBODY IS HERE FOR THE PARTY! EVERYBODY IS HAPPY! OH, THEY ARE SOOOOOO DAMNABLY HAPPY! SO DAMNEDLY HAPPY THEY ARE! THEY ARE TRAPPED AND THEY! DON'T! _KNOW_! IT! PLEAAAAASE! SOMEBODY MAKE IT STOOOOOOP!"

Aeryn looked around, "D'Argo. Go help Zhaan. Take care of Stark and bring her back as soon as you can."

"Sure.", the sobered Luxan grumbled, and ran out the bridge, licking his lips.

"Hrumph... As if we didn't have enough problems, that fool had to go and jump over the engine. What a load of dren..." Rygel mumbled.

Chiana dope slapped him. "Shut up, Rygel; if you are not helping just keep quiet."

"Yeah, sure, just as you two do. I haven't slept well in an eight-of-a-cycle."

"And aren't you you devoured by envy? Hmm?" Chiana put her hands on her hips.

"Be quiet, you two." Aeryn snapped at them.

Chiana held up her hands in a conciliatory gesture. "Sorry, Aeryn. Just what got your uniform all twisted up?"

"See that box? A weird spectral girl turned Chrichton into orange goo and left. All I could gather of John is in that box. I'm this close to scream my head off until my throat is raw and bleeding, so you'll both have to excuse my temper."

"Wait, what?"

"John, strange girl, orange goo, that box." Aeryn nodded her head towards the box. "Now, be quiet you two, I need to think. I don' want to go into this half-cooked, as John would say."

"Um... I think its half- _cocked_..."

"Whatever. Now shut up."

* * *

 _ **Author Notes**_

I've had the idea for this crossover for a long time, but hadn't found the right angle to start.

Originally, my idea was to do a wacky, Farscape-style comedy scene; but that just wouldn't work until, and unless, the Evangelion characters were already integrated into the Farscape world. That scene might eventually be written and published as an Omake. I'll probably just modify my original idea.

In the meanwhile, I want to use the classic Moya crew for the story, meaning Chrichton, Aeryn, Rygel, Ka D'Argo, Chiana, and Zhaan.

Stark is not at his best at this moment, for reasons that are obvious to any Evangelion fan. If you are not fluent in EVA lore, don' worry, it all be explained soon.

John's monologue is a modified version of the intro monologue from season three.


	2. Stay in Your Happy Place (Not Really)

_**A Whole New Universe (Of Problems)**_

 _ **Please Read and Review.**_ _I'd like to know what I'm doing right (to keep doing it), and what I'm I doing wrong (to correct it)._

* * *

 _ **Chapter 2  
...You Can Stay in Your Happy Place (...Not Really).**_

* * *

In a perfect world, a scientist assisted to the gala on her honor, opening a new wing of a science tech research institute, named after her. Not after her late mother. She had finally come out from her shadow. Exhilarating as that was by itself, the best part of the ceremony was seeing her loving husband smile at her, clapping his hands off. She grabbed firmly the ridiculously big scissors, and cut the inaugural ribbon. A kid barely on his teens took the scissors back, and another passed her a microphone with stand for her speech.

* * *

"What's going on here!? I can hear Stark's screams from two decks away!", Ka'Dargo asked just as soon as he stomped through the threshold, thoroughly annoyed at the interruption of the afterglow with Chiana, and worried sick about whatever had happened to Chrichton this time.

Inside the cell, Pa'u Zotoh Zhaan struggled with Stark. The man seemed to be trapped in a seizure. He trashed and screamed hoarsely while she pushed down his arms to the floor. His legs kicked up a storm, had they connected against her body, something would have broken.

"NO! Get them out! OUToutOUTout! There is nothing! Nothing to be! HELP MEEEEE! HELP ME GET THEM BACK OUT!" For a moment, Stark's uncovered eye focused desperately on Dargo. "You! You are a friend! Help me, please! HELP THEM! It hurts! It burns my soul!" Then he was lost again in madness and horror.

Zhaan looked at Dargo, trying to keep Stark from hitting himself against the floor of the cell. "I don't know, Dargo! He started screaming just as we came into orbit. I heard him from my room and found him like this." Stark trashed with even more force, almost lifting Zhaan from the floor with the violence of his movements.

Dargo fell down to his knees, grabbing Stark's legs as best as he could. "Hold him _**still**_ for a microt!" he yelled.

Zhaan struggled to do as Dargo had asked, the Luxan added his own, not small, strength to the Delvian's. Without the leverage his long legs gave him, Stark was immobilized for a moment. Dargo took advantage of that, took aim, and in a whipstrike, his poisonous tongue flicked out of his mouth; hitting Stark on the right side of the neck. The toxin acted immediately, but Stark was so agitated, the effect was delayed several microts.

He kept struggling, getting weaker by the second. Just before he fell unconscious, lucidity came back to him. He grabbed Zhaan's arm with frantic urgency, and whispered, looking at Dargo. "Thanks… John needsss… ussss…" His visible eye rolled up, his eyelids closed over it, and his head lolled down to the floor with a solid 'thunk!' as his half-mask hit the deck. All his muscles lost their tension. Dargo and Zhaan looked at each other, then back to Stark for several seconds; neither willing to let go the man in the half-mask, just in case the dose hadn't been strong enough.

Stark breathed slowly. He almost sighed as the visible part of his face slowly relaxed, until he was sleeping peacefully.

Dargo and Zhaan released him. She gasped, "How long will that last?" The worry in her voice was plain to hear.

Dargo shook his head and sat back. "Not sure… He was quite… crazy, even for him. He should have gone down in two microts. At most! He held on for at least ten!" He wiped his face with a hand and nodded. "He might shake it off in a little while, or it might last ten arns, twelve at most, I hit him quite strongly. I'm not sure another sting would do him any favors on the long run."

Zhaan nodded back at him. "Then, in his best interest, we have to make sure he won't hurt himself." She stood up, and wiped her hands on her tunic.

"Sure. One of us should go and get some chains or something…" Dargo kept his place next to Stark, ready to restrain him again if necessary.

"He won't like it."

"Neither do I, but he would like it even less if he breaks something."

Zhaan exhaled a breath. "I'll go. You can sting him again if needed."

"I have some chains in my room." He waved a hand in the general direction of his own room. "The hatch is open."

"…"

He shrugged, "Chiana.", he said, with finality; almost daring her to comment.

Understanding dawned in Zhaan's eyes. Accompanied by some disapproval.

On the way to Dargo's cell, Zhaan spoke into her comm. "Aeryn? I will be on the bridge in 700 microts, more or less, I need to be sure Stark will be alright."

Aeryn's voice responded. "Understood. Please hurry up." Zhaan stopped for a moment. Aeryn's voice was too tightly controlled to give away much, but the very fact she was so controlled spoke volumes about her emotional state. She had received a hard blow, and was hanging by her fingertips. She hurried to bring back the chains.

* * *

In a perfect world, a freckled girl walked home from school, holding hands with her athletic boyfriend, resting her head on his shoulder as they walked; while his sister followed them a few steps behind, skipping happily. For some reason, both simply enjoyed being able to walk and took her on a walk every chance they had.

* * *

In a perfect world, John Chrichton waited at the airport. His mother's flight had been just announced by the PA System. She had gone to visit some family, but came back for John's first flight in orbit. This mission would test the concept of the slingshot maneuver on board the Farscape I, and she wouldn't miss it for anything.

"There she is, son." His father smiled widely at the sight. John stood immediately after his father. Both hugged her warmly. John felt a deep longing in the bottom of his heart. He spaced out for a moment. All his instincts screamed at him, something was not right. But what could it be? Mom had arrived safely, there was nothing really bad in the news, his own hangover was receding, Farscape I was right on track, and his girlfriend would arrive later to the Chrichton House. He looked around, seeing nothing that should set an alarm in his head. Just people coming and going.

All is right with the world.

He shook his head, and grabbed his mother's small suitcase, following his parents to the luggage carousel.

Still… Something was wrong. He could feel some unnamable dread, building up.

"Earth to John. Wake up, son." His father snapped his fingers in front of John's face.

John shook his head, "Sorry, dad. I have my head on the clouds today."

He smiled. "I'll drive." And slapped John's shoulder with old familiarity.

John snorted, and before he could think of an answer, his mother chimed, "Shotgun!"

Both men rolled their eyes, laughing. John grabbed his mother's two suitcases, and followed them to the parking lot, struggling with the weight. _'Just what did she pack in these? Bricks?'_ he thought.

* * *

"She's scaring me, Rygel." Chiana whispered at the exiled Dominar's left ear. Neither had taken their eyes of the ex-Peacekeeper for several hundred microts. Aeryn Sun had stood in the same place for at least (five minutes), not moving a single muscle, her arms hanged loose at her sides, in a resting position that still would allow her the fastest movement to bring her guns to bear. Winona, John Chrichton's beloved gun, was in the right pocket of her leather vest. Her eyes were glued to the viewing screen. More specifically, on the white figure that grew from the planet in an impossibly big mass.

The Hynerian whispered back, "You? She's almost scaring _**me**_ , girl! I have seen her like this in very few occasions, and it never went well for somebody. I am glad she's on my side!"

The young Nebari snorted. "Don't you mean you are glad it's _you_ who is on _her_ side?"

Rygel dismissed Chiana's observation with a regal movement of his stubby hand, his eyebrows shot up in a petulant gesture. "Mere semantics don't change things. We are on the same side, and that's what matters."

Chiana left things there, if she started arguing with Rygel, it was very probable Aeryn would focus on them next. And in her current mental state, it was way better not to get on her way. She shook her head, tilting it into an angle, as she used to do whenever she was agitated.

"Pilot." Aeryn said, still immobile. "Please change orbit, I want to see the face of that giant creature. Even with its glow, it looks familiar."

"Changing course, Officer Sun." Pilot's four arms moved with practiced precision on Moya's control console. "We will be on position to watch the profile in close to 2 arns."

"Aknowledged." She kept looking at the giant. "Inform me when you have your part of the analysis."

"I will. Although I must inform you that preliminary…"

"Stop, unless it can't wait. I'd prefer to draw my own conclusions, Pilot. We will compare notes later. Thank you for your concern."

"You are certainly welcome, Officer Sun; yes, the collected data can wait. The DRD's inform me there is no more… urm… there is no good way to say this… There is no more residue to be collected on the deck. They have deposited it at the box you indicated. I am very sorry I cannot do more."

Aeryn's voice didn't betray her emotions. "Thank you, please thank Moya for me, Pilot."

"She asked me to transmit you all her sympathies, John has been a good friend to us, despite his eccentricities."

"We appreciate it, Pilot." After her small outburst of emotion, she had reverted to her Peacekeeper training, becoming utterly focused on the 'mission', she would have to let them go later, but for now, she was keeping her self-control. _'Dammit, John. Look what you've done of me!'_ she thought.

A little over 100 microts later, Pilot's voice intruded in her thoughts. "Officer Sun, I have finished with my preliminar analysis, I can send the data packages to you at your convenience."

Finally, Aeryn turned from the viewscreen. "Good, locate Zhaan and send her here. Another pair of eyes will be helpful."

Both Rygel and Chiana protested with a "Hey!"

"You are included." Aeryn responded rigidly, with a little ice on her voice. "No one says anything. Observe closely, take notes, we will discuss our observations later."

She turned her eyes towards the viewscreen. Moya was already changing orbit, soon they would be able to see the face of the giant.

* * *

In a perfect world, a boy with glasses loved being the pilot of the best and most powerful war machine ever made. It was almost like something out of the manga books from his childhood. His training had been fine tuned to him, and he and his machine worked as a singular entity on the battleground. The giant alien invaders were vanquished again and again, and he enjoyed being the best pilot humanity had on their side during the kaiju war.

He loved the feeling of power he had on the cockpit of his war machine, it was better than anything else on the world. Let others drive fast cars or excel in sports, piloting a giant mecha was orders of magnitude better than that.

Being able to kick the asses of the giant monsters that attacked his city with mechanical regularity was a welcome bonus.

* * *

In a perfect world, a tall, thin man enjoyed the breeze on the naked skin of his torso and legs. His hairless head rested on the back of a low, extended chair as he watched the waves crashing down on the beach, he settled comfortably on his place, watching intensely from his vantage point on a terrace. He mused on just how much he was enjoying being finally free of the black suit that was at the same time, his prison, his liberty, his weapon and his torture.

His long nose sniffed the air with pleasure, enjoying the smells of this place. He knew, of course, it was all an illusion; but then again, so was he. So, he was uniquely qualified to tell illusion from reality. Even his long stay in another's mind had _tasted_ more real than this place.

So, he decided to enjoy the moment for as long as possible. He stretched his arm, taking a tall, cold glass from the low table next to him, and watched condensation drip down the surface. He sipped slowly from the drink. Not having to worry about temperatures was so… liberating…

"So, John… Enjoy your… _paradise_ …" He exhaled softly, in a way that in other beings could have been called a sigh. "Pity it won't last for long. Your own nature will take care of that."

He put the glass back on the table, and before he laced his hands at the back of his head his fingers traced the skin on his temples, marveling at the smoothness.

"Just take your time. I have no… _need_ … to hurry out." He took another sip from the glass, "Ahhh… your people has a remarkable talent for the simple pleasures of life…" He licked his almost inexistent lips, relishing the taste.

The man snapped his fingers, and an obsequious waiter arrived immediately at his side. "Would you like another margarita, Sir?"

"Not this time. A mojito would be in order, I haven't tried those yet. And bring some snacks too. Something _salty_."

"Immediately, sir." The waiter bower, and hurried up to bring the order.

A car passed in in front of the resort, the thin man already knew who was inside. He raised his glass in a salute. "I do like your paradise better than mine, John. Had it not been for you, I'd be up to my neck in dead Scarrans." His smile showed two rows of strangely serrated teeth.

* * *

 _ **Author Notes**_

Stark can feel souls as they pass into whatever the afterlife in Farscape is, but it always affects him. If the manner of death is especially traumatic, it affects him even more. The amount of people dying has a cumulative effect. The Human Instrumentalization process is an abomination to him, and it hit him with the force of a runaway train.

 **(Evangelion spoilers next; as if the previous chapter wasn't spoilery enough)**

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All human beings were condensed into a singular entity in The End of Evangelion. As part of the Human Instrumentality process, each and every soul in the gestalt entity is living their perfect paradise, their perfect world. It is a very insidious trap, who would want to escape Paradise, after all? Especially not knowing it is a false reality. Similar to The Matrix, now that I think of it. (Maybe something to explore in another story, later.)

In any case, as the catalyst of the process, Shinji Ikari decided to leave an escape hatch. Anybody can get out of the Sea of Souls, they only have to decide to go back to reality. By the end of the story, only he and Asuka Langley Soryu had left the Instrumentality. But there was hope more people followed.

Still, both were terribly traumatized by both the previous events, and their own twisted worlds.

Plus, civilization had been effectively erased. At least in Tokyo-3, the epicenter of the event, the destruction of the city was very complete; barely any buildings were left still standing. It is conceivable that the destruction was less severe the further away from Tokyo-3, but still, the damages should have been considerable, as the sudden disappearance of every human being surely left many moving vehicles moving by themselves. And that's not even counting industrial processes, cooking and every human activity with any potential for a destructive accident.

Except for Chrichton himself and another, all the "in a perfect world" mini-scenes are the perfect worlds of the Evangelion characters. Have fun identifying them!


	3. Domestic(ated) Bliss

_**A Whole New Universe (Of Problems)**_

* * *

 _ **Please Read and Review.**_ _I'd like to know what I'm doing right (to keep doing it), and what I'm I doing wrong (to correct it)._

* * *

 _ **Chapter 3**_

 _ **Domestic(ated) Bliss**_

* * *

In a perfect world, a gang of eight kids played baseball in a park, against a group of visiting kids they had met in school. The pitcher sent a fastball to the hands of the catcher. The bat swung and failed. With that last strike, the game ended. Pitcher and catcher hugged each other, jumping up and down celebrating their victory.

They never saw the kid who watched them from the distance. The wind played with his short, brown hair. A look of fathomless sadness in his eyes.

* * *

"Erin! Honey! Did my son finally decided on making an honest woman out of you while I was away?" Leslie Chrichton hugged the tall woman who awaited for the group in the Chrichton House living room, comfortably seated on the large couch.

The tall woman shook her black hair, and stood up, smiling at her future mother-in-law; she wore a white blouse and pants, with big yellow polka dots, she almost looked like a trendy hippie from the 1960´s, but the clothes just complimented her in a way John had never seen in any other woman. "Not yet, Leslie! At this speed, I´ll have to do the deed myself!" she laughed openly, looking his expression.

"Wowowowowowo!" John protested, waving his hands. "No ganging up on me you two!" he shrank under the answering rain of cushions, taken from the coach.

"C´mon, Johnny Boy! Your flight is in a week!" Erin Sunn hit him several times with the last cushion.

"Relax, you two. Ow!" Playfully he wrestled the cushion from his fiancée's hands, and proceeded to chase her around the living room, blandishing it over his head, exaggerating as much as possible. The couple laughed like children. "Come back here! You coward!" He swung the cushion, deliberately failing to hit.

John´s parents smiled and decided to leave them to their antics. Both exchanged a look full of meaning, and without a single world, ran up the stairs.

Eventually, John caught Erin, and wrapped her in a hug from behind, lifting her and kissing the nape of her neck. "No! It tickles!" Still laughing, she struggled but couldn´t get herself free from his arms.

"All hail the mighty conqueror hero of the sky!" John laughed, releasing her and striking a pose. Both began to laugh, without a care in the world.

"Keep dreaming, Johnny Boy! You better wake up and pop the question _before_ you put your ass in that flying can of coffee!"

"What? The _Farcape I_ is the best ship ever seen in this galaxy!" He mock-pouted at her.

"And you are the best pilot in the universe!" She smiled at him and grabbed his head for a deep, searing kiss.

He pushed her off for a second, just studying her face. Her features were hard and angular, but her warm smiles always melted John Chrichton´s heart. And her kisses ranged from sun-hot to tender, with all the variations he could ever want.

"Never, ever, forget that, honey." He pulled her back for a deeper kiss.

* * *

In a perfect world, an old professor watched proudly the graduation ceremony. It was a very special occasion, as the boy graduating at the top of the class was the son of his favorite student. The boy was even more intelligent than his mother, and was the closest to a grandson the old professor had. They had been very lucky when that good-for-nothing had died in a traffic accident back when the boy was barely out of diapers.

The father of the kid had been a damned upstart, a gold-digger, a bar brawler looking for an easy way to climb socially. He never bothered to connect with the boy. After his demise, the professor had stepped in, becoming something like a honorary grandfather.

To this day, what exactly his star pupil had seen in that waste of DNA was a mystery for the old man.

When students, parents and guardians came out the building, no one noticed the kid sitting on a bench at the other side of the street, shoulders down, the head hanging on defeat.

* * *

Chiana shook her head. "She almost looks like a sick Nebari." She pointed at the recording Pilot was replaying for the fourth time.

"What would a Nebari be doing in this little speck of dirt?" Rygel moved the controls of his floating throne, hovering around the group, and pointed at the image with a short, stubby finger.

"I didn´t say she was a Nebari, Rygel." Chiana answered dryly, she pointed at the image. "Look closely, she lacks the secondary coloring on the skin. It looks almost translucent. Any healthy Nebari´s skin is more opaque than that. Look at her hands, you can see the tendons and blood vessels under her skin. A Nebari with a skin that translucent would already be in the other side."

Everybody around stared at her, studying her pigmentation. "Are you happy now?" she put her hands on her hips, only to raise them to the heavens in annoyance a moment later. "Come look at the Pretty Nebari runaway!"

"Enough," Dargo put a hand on her shoulder, still looking at the image. "Chiana is right. This intruder is no Nebari, look at her belly. No Nebari I´ve ever seen has that puckered scar." The intruder had a navel in the middle of her belly, just like a sebacean or a human. "The closest I can say she is to any of the races I know of in the Uncharted Territories would be a Sebacean; and still, she´s too pale. She would have to be from a small independent Sebacean colony, the Peacekeepers would cull her immediately after birth." The Luxan raised his eyes and a conciliatory hand towards the only Sebacean on board Moya. "No offense, Aeryn."

The ex-Peacekeeper grunted sharply and shook her head. "None taken. It is the truth."

Dargo rubbed his beak, thinking. "That blue hair wouldn´t check with any Sebacean offshoot I know."

Aeryn added. "The same. Could it be a wig? Maybe it´s tinted."

Zhaan walked around the image, her robe rustling softly with each movement. "I doubt it. It is her natural pigmentation. Look at her eyelashes." Dargo shifted his weight uncomfortably from one feet to the other, his eyes had wandered down. He cleared his throat, while Zhaan continued. "What did she meant calling you ´ _no true daughter of Lilith_ ´? And what is this ´ _Human Instrumentality_ ´ she mentions?"

"Must be some weird human religious thing." Rygel added. "Chrichton is a complete nutcase."

Aeryn glared at him. "He is our nutcase, _My_ nutcase." She looked at the others, daring them to dissent. She exhaled softly once she saw there wouldn´t be any. "His culture is strange to us. That´s all."

Rygel snorted. "They are all crazy, I say. Only reason they would send such a madman in a spaceship in the first place!"

Pilot´s voice interrupted them. "I have concluded the analisys of the orange liquid. It only contains normal organic molecules. As far as Moya and I can tell, it contains every molecule John´s human body was made of, but separated and remixed in a homogeneous liquid."

"You mean Chrichton was _actually_ rendered into his components?" a horrified Chiana asked, she looked like she was about to get violently sick. From behind, Zhaan grabbed her by the shoulders, comforting her.

"Lacking a better description, yes." Pilot continued, "The slowed recording shows his molecules losing cohesion in barely a hundredth of a microt. I´m sure he didn´t even realize what was happening. After a short pause, Pilot added. "Do you want me to replay the recording magnified and in slow play?"

Chiana shuddered. "Not in my presence. It was bad enough to see it in normal speed. I don´t wan´t to see him disintegrate in liquid."

Dargo nodded in support. "I will see it, later." He shot a significant look at Chiana, and shrugged, "Maybe I can find something." She nodded.

"Any way to revert the process, Pilot?" Aeryn bit her thumb for a second. Her eyes wandered towards the box that contained John´s clothes and the orange goo

"Not to my knowledge, Officer Sun. We are sorry."

Aeryn nodded.

"Maybe his people will know what to do." Zhann observed. "The girl mentioned something about ´ _souls_ ´. Pilot? Have you tried to establish communications with Earth?"

"John asked me not to." His head moved in what could have been a shrug, had he had the articulation required for that. "We were to enter orbit cloaked, monitor transmissions for several arns, and then he would decide on what to do. Moya began her monitoring as soon as we came out the starburst. But the amount of transmissions dropped significantly almost as soon as she began monitoring them."

"Sensible on his part." Aeryn raised her eyes. "Examine the current transmissions, please. Look for any mention of ´ _Human Instrumentality´, ´Lilith´_ or _´souls´._ That should give us a place to begin." She exhaled in frustration.

Pilot´s image bobbed on the holoprojector. He seemed to hesitate for several microts; when he spoke again, his eye ridges wrinkled in dread. "Officer Sun? Moya cannot detect any active transmissions at the moment. She is picking up some traffic from several satellites, but they are going off by the microt. She thinks the satellites´ orbits will begin to decay soon. There are a few mentions of souls in the transmissions, but in the context of… um… ritual mating songs? I´m not sure."

"Then look for the biggest population center. Use Moya´s senses."

Pilot´s arms moves efficiently. Several microts later, he exhaled a horrified sigh. "There are no occupied population centers, Officer Sun! Moya cannot find a single human being on the planet!"

An alarm chimed them. Everybody looked around, looking for the cause. Rygel´s breath choked in his throat. His eyes grew big as saucers. He couldn´t find his voice for a moment, until he rasped, pointing at the viewing screen with shaking fingers. "It´s her! The girl!" Everybody´s eyes followed the direction he was pointing at. Aeryn drew Winona and one of her own guns, ready to point at the intruder. But there was no one else in the bridge.

Outside the bridge, however…

Moya had finally reached a position to look at the giant´s face. It was a perfect duplicate of the girl who had liquified Chrichton, in an inconceivably vast scale. Just the irises of her red eyes were bigger than Moya was long, and the pupils were dilated enough for the living ship to pass through into her eyes. Her facial expression was pure, distilled madness. Her unfocused eyes lost in the distance, and her mouth twisted in a grin the size of a continent.

Several microts of tense silence followed. No one dared to speak or move.

* * *

In a perfect world, a girl skated on a park, hurrying home, back to her parents. She had just received a call from her mother, telling her to pack her luggage for a trip to Europe! She stopped for a moment, digging on her fannypack for some coins to buy a popsicle from a street vendor.

She pulled on the zipper hanger, the figure of a cartoonish penguin with a robotic backpack.

The girl paid for her snack, and resumed her way home, enjoying the refreshing sweetness in her mouth.

A lock of black hair escaped the helmet, and with a smooth and practiced movement of her left hand, she pushed it back under it.

Once she had skated away, a teen wearing a white shirt came out from behind a tree, dragging his feet.

* * *

In a perfect world, an athletic boy walked home from school, holding hands with his freckled faced girlfriend, enjoying how she resting her head on his shoulder as they walked; while his sister followed them a few steps behind, skipping happily. For some reason, both simply enjoyed being able to walk and he took them on a walk every chance they had.

In a café, a blue eyed young man watched then, envy and sadness competing in his eyes.

* * *

In a perfect world, a tall, bald man with a long nose had the time of his live. Actually, it was the first time of his life.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, he had put on a strident Hawaiian shirt and gone out into the evening. It took him only a few moments to find a nice bar with a live band. He sat in a dark corner, listening to the band play old songs. After a few minutes, the man had had enough. He rose from his seat, went to the stage, spoke to the leader of the band, and slipped a few bills into his hand.

"Are you sure? Not that I´m complaining about the money, but sometimes the crowd gets a bit hard to please." The man was torn between greed and dread; more tan once, an amateur had ruined a night. At least this guy wasn´t drunk.

"Let´s put that to the test." The tall man entoned, raising an eyebrow. The vocalist nodded once, and turned around. "Yo, Wayne, this gentleman wants to play a song with us. Do you mind loaning him your drums for a couple of songs?"

"Ah donnnow, man. It belonged to my dad."

The tall man smiled a strange smile, his teeth looked funny in the dim lights of the bar. "Worry not, my friend. I´ll take good care of your set." He slipped several bills on the drummer´s hand. "And, should I not, well… Let´s consider this a deposit for the replacement of anything I could damage."

The man looked at the bills, wetted his lips, and rose from his place. "Shur-man, go nuts. Uh, Donny? Ah´ll be adda bar."

A few minutes later, the tall man was busy playing a very good rendition of "Sharp Dressed Man" along with the band. His style was a bit rigid and clipped, but very precise. Not a single beat out of place.

The tall man smiled to himself. He had caught the eye of three women in the bar. A blond, and two brunettes.

He whispered. "Oh, John. If only you knew how much fun I shall have before you go back."

* * *

 _ **Author Notes**_

Kudos to Captain Bardiel, for recognizing correctly all the Evangelion characters in the ´In A Perfect World´ Interludes in the previous chapter!

Scorpius is back in the Uncharted Territories, doing his thing; it is only Harvey who is enjoying the breeze. There is something going on with the Crichtons, but that will come into play later on.

The bar scene is a callback to one of Farscape hallucinatory episodes. Scorpius/Harvey´s actor, Wayne Pygram, plays the drums, and this was used to set up a fun gag with Scorpius/Harvey, playing the drums in a bar while Chrichton is around. Of course, he was wearing his full Scorpius suit, sticking out like a sore thumb in the ambiance of the bar.


	4. You Are (Not) in the Outside Looking In

_**A Whole New Universe (Of Problems)**_

* * *

 _ **Please Read and Review.**_ _I'd like to know what I'm doing right (to keep doing it), and what I'm I doing wrong (to correct it)._

* * *

 _ **Chapter 4**_

 _ **You Are (Not) in the Outside Looking In**_

* * *

´Ah… This _is_ the life.´ The tall man thought as he got up from his bed in the hotel room. Under the sheets, the blonde and one of the brunettes stirred a little.

"..Harv, Honey…" one of them mumbled in her sleep, he didn´t know which one, and actually he didn´t care that much about it. Both women were mere figments of John Chrichton´s imagination. "…Come back to bed…"

He ignored ´ _her_ ´ for a moment, and entered the spacious bathroom. He let some water run in the sink, and washed his face. He took a towel to dry his skin, and looked at his reflection on the mirror.

 _´Remarkable what an illusory paradise can do for your complexion. And for your internal temperature regulation too.´_ he mused.

"…Harv…" This time it was the other ´ _woman_ ´.

"I´m on my way, my dears." He returned to bed.

"Hmm… So nice of you to stay, little ones. What do you say we go down and paint this city red? Your choice of shade and tone." He chuckled. In another circumstances, that chuckle alone would have been enough to send shivers of fear down the spines of soldiers, mercenaries, and assorted low-lifes.

Here and now? It was merely endearing. Especially as he was in a way, controlling the flow of the events.

The blonde was more awake now, and she grabbed him by the neck, kissing him deeply. He stiffened for a moment, then remembered where he was, and relaxed again, returning the kiss.

"I´d prefer to stay inside, Harv." She smiled with lust at him.

"I know, my dear. Just a little fun, then room service." He smiled his strange smile. Funny, his ´ _body_ ´ was completely human, except for his teeth. Those were still the same Scorpius had.

"I´m in the mood for some pizza _and_ margaritas. What about you, girls?"

"Nobody has pizzas and margaritas, Harv. Especially for breakfast." The brunette remarked.

 _´Damn your subconscious, John. I_ _ **want**_ _pizza_ _ **and**_ _margaritas!´_ Harvey shrugged. "I have, and I will, little ones."

* * *

In a perfect world, a small girl skipped happily behind her brother and his girlfriend. The big lug had taken his sweet own time to realize he actually liked the strict Class Rep, and even longer to gather his courage and actually offering to accompany her in the walk back to her home. And the teenage girl was no better; she did know she liked him, but hid her attraction behind her stern façade at the front of the class.

In the end, it had been on her hands to put both fools together. She sighed. The work of a little sister never ended.

From a café, a pair of sad blue eyes watched them.

Further still, another pair of blue eyes watched too, narrowing in annoyance.

* * *

"Everybody is clear on the plan?" Aeryn had put her old flight suit on. The helmet hid her face completely, it would be hard to see even the bulk of her head once the suit was sealed.

"Yes, yes, Mom." Chiana recited, a bit testily. "You go first, just in case these humans have something like a remotely decent defense web." Her head tilted in that particular way of hers, as if she was studying her, evaluating her. By now, Aeryn was so used to this gesture, it didn´t even registered on her mind.

Ka D´Argo continued, while putting a package on his back, almost like a backpack, taking care not to tangle the strips on his Qualta Blade. He spoke more to calm their tempers than any eagerness. "Chiana and I will follow you in the shuttle. I´ll pilot, while Chiana scans all frequencies on short range."

Now it was Rygel´s turn, the diminutive Hynerian maneuvered his floating throne around the group, waving lazily his left hand in a royal gesture. "I´ll stay here to monitor long range transmissions and to act as a liason, should any humans respond. I am the best suited to be the diplomat, as it is. I´d prefer to sent one of my ambassadors, but I shall be enough." He finished, and smiled smugly, as was his custom. His triangular face and thick lips were singularly gifted for smug smiles. He took place at the comms console, making sure the controls were on reach of his stubby fingers.

Zhaan checked the vital signs of Stark´s unconscious body, she and Dargo had brought him to the bridge, where he could be watched and cared for. Stark was still chained, and breathed with the regularity of a sleeping baby; he would stay like that until the effect of Ka Dargo´s tongue sting wore off. "I´ll watch Stark. In case he has another episode, I have prepared enough ingredients for several calming solutions; they are ready to be mixed and applied at a moment's notice; otherwise, they will lose some potency." Zhaan caressed the left side of Stark´s face with her right hand, the Banik relaxed a bit more at her touch. Zhaan checked once more on the series of little containers at her reach. Satisfied, she turned her attention back to Stark. She smoothed her sky blue robes with her hands, her golden collar shone in the light.

Aeryn nodded. "Good, keep him safe. I have the feeling Stark got hit by whatever happened down there. Both he and the girl spoke of souls." She shook her head, checking her ponytail was secure and wouldn´t come loose inside the helmet. A couple of strands had gotten loose, she pushed them back in place. "Pilot? Are you ready to open the docking bay."

"Everything has been prepared. As soon as you give me the signal, I´ll open the dock. While you return, I´ll maintain orbit over the place John said his base was placed; while you go down to the planet, Moya and myself will keep watch over the giant, and monitor satellite traffic, low as it is."

"Good. Feed the coordinates to my Prowler."

"Transferring." His amber/reddish eyes swiveled over Moya´s main control panel, although his arms were out from the holoimage, their movements were evident on the bobbing of Pilot´s image.

Aeryn Sun sighed. "I never expected to go to Chrichton´s home in these circumstances. Anyway, I hope his base will be accessible. Maybe we can find somebody hidden. Now, how was that place called? Cainavirral?"

"I believe it is ´ _Canaveral´,_ Officer Sun;after a kind of plant growing in the area. John liked to reminisce about the place sometimes between working on Moya´s systems and pestering me about some thing or another. He was very proud of his people´s achievements, primitive as they were. He drew me a map on a wrapper once. It wasn´t really that accurate, but it is enough to match it with some landmarks. Although there are some places where the coastlines are quite different from that drawing, especially on the South Pole, the site is still recognizable. Hmm... He never mentioned the seas of his planet were redish orange in color. At least in part. I distinctly remember he used to call Earth ´The Big Blue Marble´. Not Red and blue. "

Pilot manipulated several controls on his console before continuing, "You should be able to pinpoint its exact location once you are in the general area. According to John, there is a large clear area around several tall structures his people use to stabilize their primitive delivery systems for their ships. They are very distinctive, lots of exposed girders over a large platform. The control rooms would be in a building close to those structures. Moya has selected several places that more or less correspond to that description. The coordinates are already in your Prowler."

Aeryn nodded. "Thank you, Pilot." The group walked to their ships.

"Well…" grumbled Dargo, "We are on Urth." He checked his acces to his Qualta Blade one last time. Satisfied, he turned to board.

"Earth." Aeryn corrected him softly.

"Yeah, I know." He put his package in the shuttle´s cargo bay, and followed Chiana inside.

Aeryn´s Peacekeeper Prowler had an angular and aggressive design, it had been made to intimidate with its very presence. The shuttle was a boxy ship, all its length punctuated by a series of external support beams, that gave it the aspect of a ribcage.

Once the two groups had boarded their ships, Aeryn signaled Pilot, although Pilot couls monitor them from Moya´s Control Room, everybody on board mantained a sense of courtesy towards him. And clearing all ship procedures with him was at the top of the list.

The doors into Moya´s inner areas slid close hermetically, once they were closed and checked the docking bay depressurized, keeping the atmosphere in a couple of ´lungs´, ready to be returned to the docking bay when neccessary.

The big doors at the other end of the docking bay slid began to open to space. There was a slight air current, nothing big, as there was only the barest atmosphere inside the bay.

Back on the bridge, Rygel mumbled, his confident mask slipping for a moment. "At least we will be far from that thing. I hate to feel its eyes looking at us. They remind me of some of the worst nightmares I´ve ever had. And that includes Durka." The diminutive Hynerian maneuvered his floating throne back to the comm console, and locked it into place.

* * *

In a perfect world, a girl with black hair walked into her room at home. Her mother had given her the good news. Her father was on his way home. As soon as he had rested a couple of days, the whole family would finally go on vacation!

She put a cup of instant curry in the microwave, and just as she pressed the _Start_ button, she felt something was wrong.

But what could it be? Everything was... perfect. Absolutely perfect.

And yet... something was missing.

* * *

In a perfect world, a young woman was getting ready for a date. Not any date, mind you. It was a date with the woman she had admired for a long time. The most brilliant scientist of the age. And if everything went right... well... the night was young, and who knew what the morning could bring? She blushed, and grabbing her purse, went out her apartment. A last look at the clock on the wall showed her she was a few minutes late! She would have to hurry up. She didn´t want a bad impression to ruin her chances.

She came out her building, almost running, and she knocked down a boy in the way out. She turned around, apologizing quickly; and ran away to hail a cab; leaving him behind, sitting on the floor.

From the other side of the street, a long haired girl watched from the shadows, her fists tightened.

* * *

"It´s time, John!" Erin´s voice cut through John Chrichton´s consciousness like a knife. Last night activities had been... quite tiring. He couldn´t imagine how his grilfriend coulbe be so energetic on the mornings! He guesses she must be a morning person, but that didn´t mean he had to be one too.

John Chrichton mumbled something in his sleep. Erin prodded his ribs with a finger, until he finally cracked open an eye, "ahdonwannagodoschooll…", he mumbled, and went back to sleep.

"Wake up, Mister! On your feet, soldier!" Erin shook him several times. Then she played her winning card, "If you stay on bed, big bad Gary will pilot Farscape I!"

John bolted out of the bed as if propelled by a spring. He put his t-shirt so fast he didn´t notice it was inside-out and back-to-front, as he yelled, "NEVER! That´s my baby!"

Erin crossed her arms, looking amused. "That´s better, now, go to the shower and then down for breakfast, Leslie already made pancakes And for Pete´s sake, put that shirt the right way on." She laughed while John checked he had actually put the shirt on as she had said.

* * *

In a perfect world, a young man enjoyed the kiss of the most perfect woman in the whole world. Sure, she was a few years older than him, but in the end, that didn't' matter to them. The movie had been good, and put her in a romantic mood. They stopped at the corner, taking advantage of the traffic to kiss.

His eyeglasses rested askew over his nose, while his fingers grabbed her purple hair.

At the next corner, a teenage boy stood on the door of a store; watching them, a spark of jealousy in his eyes. He walked away, his steps heavy and leaden.

From the parking level of a building, a teenage girl watched too. Angry and impatient. He began to stomp her way after the boy, but he disappeared into thin air.

* * *

In a perfect world, an old professor sat on his study, reviewing the pictures from the graduation of his almost grandson.

He smiled, happy and content.

Still... somethying nagged him. It was a strange feeling in the back of his mind. Everything was perfect.

But for some strange reason... something was wrong.

* * *

 _ **Author Notes**_

So, yeah, Harvey really does like the idea of having pizza and margaritas, Chrichton is not that keen on that… (´Crackers Don´t Matter´)

* * *

 _Big Blue Marble_ was a children TV show I used to watch when I was a kid. Sadly, I can barely remember anything about it. The name came back as I was writing Pilot´s dialogue contrasting Chrichton´s descritpions of Earth with its current state.

* * *

The way Erin convinces John to get up and go to work was taken from an old Mafalda cartoon. Mafalda was a newspaper strip, a slice-of-life of Argentinian life back in the 60s and 70´s. The humor is quite accesible, even today, most of it is still relatable. Of course, some of the punchlines depend on knowing how daily life in Argentina went under the dictatorship... but those are a minority.

In that particular strip, Felipe, a school age kid, doesn´t want to go to school. His mother yields to this, and fondly reminisces about how she loved those times another student on her class would miss a day, because then _she could go to their desk and stay there_. Felipe jumps off the bed, yelling something like "I´ll **NEVER** allow Fatty to sit on my desk!" He gets to school early, just as his mom intended.

Quino´s work is always fun and great to read. Apart from his Mafalda strips, original published in newspapers, he also has a lot of wordless cartoons. Looke for them on the web. (the maid picking up the room after a party is great. Especially if you too hate the Guernica...)

* * *

Some Evangelion characters will come out the Sea of Souls, I still haven´t decided who will go to the Uncharted Territories, except for Shinji and Asuka, of course. Plus another character who I think will be a surprise.


	5. Moments in Time (and Space)

_**A Whole New Universe (Of Problems)**_

* * *

 _ **Please Read and Review.**_ _I'd like to know what I'm doing right (to keep doing it), and what I'm I doing wrong (to correct it)._

* * *

 _ **Chapter 5  
 _ **Moments in Time (and Space)**_**_

"Farscape One, hold a moment." D. K. spoke with a calm he didn't really feel, he stood up from his chair in IASA's Command Center, behind him, Jack Chrichton tensed up.

At the edge of the Earth's atmosphere, a little one-man ship struggled against the rarified air, keeping a precarious balance, skipping over the atmosphere like a thrown pebble over water. Training behind it, a plume of fire followed it closely, enveloping the ship in a cocoon of light and heat.

"Canaveral, what?" John's head shook side to side in the cockpit, trying to keep himself as stable as posible.

D.K.'s voice answered, "Meteorology reports some kind of electromagnetic wave. Repeat, some kind of wave. John, do you read me?" He turned to his right for a moment, to see Jack holding the back of his chair with a death grip.

Farscape 1 shook with even more force. "Yeah, I read you." The shaking was uncomfortable, but not unexpected. Actually, this kind of shaking was exactly as his theory predicted, and the Farscape 1 had been designed to cope with it. The turbulence was well below the safety limits..

However, static interfered with their transmissions, D. K. only heard fragments of his friend's voice.

"Wha- are - talk—g h-re? How seve-?"

Up in Farscape 1, John Chrichton struggled to control his craft. "Canaveral? Canaveral?"

Frantically, D. K. issued the only command that made any kind of sense at the moment. "John, abort!"

"Ca-av-al! C-na-era-!"

Jack Chrichton took the mike, enunciating the order with a forced calm, he knew John's best chance depended on him actually understanding his orders. "Son, you have to abort! Abort **NOW**!"

Right then, a wave of blue light hit Farscape 1, enveloping the ship with strange radiation. John grabbed the control stick with all his strenght, pulling and pushing. Trying to stop the crazy cartwheels of his ship.

He felt light on the head, if this continued, he could fall unconscious! "Wake up, John!" He mumbled. " **WAKE UP!** " With a supreme effort of will, he tensed and relaxed the muscles of his legs several times, forcing the blood in them to go back up to his brain. Immediately, he felt the rush of oxygen clear his mind, and he began to push buttons as fast as humanly possible.

In front of him, a ball of light coalesced, right in front of his tumbling ship. The vision galvanized him, with the last of his strength, he recovered control of Farscape 1. He barely managed to avoid hitting the ball of light.

On Earth, Mission Control watched as the strange ball of light exploded. All comms crackled into a fierce roar of static.

"Canaveral?" John paused, waiting for an answer. "Canaveral? Do you copy? Mama Bear, are you there?"

After a long moment, D.K. answered. "-ma Bear he-, Farsca- One. Glad to hear you. John, are you okay?" he sounded very relieved.

Still worried, Jack Chrichton took the mike. "Son? What happened? Can you land?"

"Dad, you wouldn´t believe it! I hope the cameras got it, because it was a DOOZY!" John sounded euphorical, probably he was still riding the adrenaline rush. He began to cackle, but he recovered his self-control in a couple of seconds.

Jack sighed in relief. "I can´t wait, son." The smile in his voice was very much in evidence.

"Woohoo! That was a tale for three beers!" John shook his head, "Ahem." and he forced himself to focus in more immediate matters. His voice reverted to the controlled, consummate, professional. "Canaveral, checking systems now. I´ll keep the line open while I wait."

A few minutes later, he reported. "Canaveral, I´m a little banged up; all systems are go, but I lost a couple insulation tessels. Landing is a neg."

"That´s okay, son; stay in that orbit and the Collaroy will pick you - in the next arn - so."

"Copy, Canaveral, I´ll wait... Wait, an arn?"

"An _hour_ , son, we´re still getting some static."

"Okay, Canaveral, I´ll run a deep system check in the meanwhile."

He covered the mike with a hand and whispered, "An ´arn´? Why does that sounds familiar?" His brow knotted. _´Why does that sounds so... right?´_

* * *

In a myriad of perfect worlds, a sad boy looked at the happines of others. Disappearing when his pain grew too deep to keep watching.

* * *

In a perfect world, a hunter swam deeper and deeper in search of prey. His blood sang in his veins. For far too long he had been looking for food. Finally, a sharp acceleration put him in reach. He extended his beak, and snatched the fish.

Once he had fed, he turned up, looking for the edge of a rock platform.

Looking around, the hunter saw no predator which could make a meal out of him. He jumped into the ice, and lay down to rest for a while, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his body.

He thought for a long while.

Although it was nice to have his own hunting grounds, and he could perceive a group of females nearby, there was something missing.

He laid down there, thinking, for a long while.

He dimly remembered a few featherless creatures. One with a long purple frill, the one who had been a part of his flock for a long time; followed by other with a short mane, brown in color; another brown mane, but longer; and one with two frills, both red.

Where were they?

They had been a part of his flock.

The hunter looked around.

Where were they?

He decided to look for them. Food and mates could wait.

* * *

 _ **Florida, USA.**_

"Right. So this is Chrichton´s planet, uh?" Ka D´Argo rumbled. "Not very advanced."

The ships had landed in an almost enclosed structure, it looked like a primitive kind of fortress to Aeryn. If there was any remotely decent military corps in this world, it would probably be in a place like this. Strangely, the open yard at the center was covered by a strange green carpet, and a curious romboidal shape had been painted over it. "John said it too. His people´s tech is primitive, they are only beginning to get out their planet. Haven´t even colonized that big moon."

D´Argo remembered it. He had seen it from the bridge. It was a really massive moon. It surely would offer a lot of living space once the humans decided to colonize it. Even with that long streak of red that crossed it from side to side. It looked disturbingly like blood. He shrugged. Planetology wasn´t his strong point.

Close to them, Chiana had picked up a weapon. "Hey, guys, want one of these?" and she threw a long wooden stick at D´Argo. The Luxan caught it one handed, weighted it, and tried a couple of swings with his left hand. "Feels like a woman´s weapon, are there any heavier?"

Chiana checked the box, lifting each stick in turn, wighting them. "Nah, all are more or less the same."

Aeryn looked around, all around the yard hanged what she thought were regimental banners. They showed a stylized horizontal zigzag, with a strange elongated shape around the left upper zig. "Looks a bit like a gladiatorial arena, don´t you think? There´s even seats for the people." She looked around. The silence was grating against her trained senses. "We should explore around. Give me one of those, Chiana." The young Nebari threw one at her, Aeryn caught it in the air and tentatively swung it a couple of times. "Look for some clothes, we should go as native as possible." She examined the weapon. "Hmm... smooth, well cared for. This thing has never seen actual combat. Might be new, or a ritual weapon."

D´Argo looked around, and took his Qualta Blade out, extending the firing mechanism. "I´ll go check on that tunnel." He announced. "Cover me."

Chiana got her pulse pistol out. Aeryn hefted her pulse rifle. Both followed D´Argo, looking around for possible ambushers.

The silence was ennerving them. The only sounds they could hear were from animals, probably flyers.

D´Argo raised a hand and crouched down. He examined something on the floor, and signaled both to get closer.

Chiana wrinkled her nose. "Are those..?"

"Clothes." Answered Aeryn.

D´Argo poked at a white tunic with his Qualta Blade. Picking it up and sniffing the garment, he looked significantly at Aeryn. "It´s dry, but it smells _exactly_ like the bridge did when I came in."

Aeryn knelt besides him. "Look." There was an orange stain on the floor. "Whatever happened to John, it happened here too."

Chiana gulped. "Guys, I don´t know about you, but I´m getting seriously creeped out."

Her companions nodded. "Yeah..." D´Argo agreed. "I don´t think going in disguise will be needed."

A cursory check of the building revealed more empty clothes and orange stains on the floor or furniture.

They were checking the outer perimeter of the structure, when Pilot´s voice interrupted them.

"Officer Sun? Moya has located the place. I´m transmitting the coordinates to your Prowler."

Chiana almost jumped at the sound, but she controlled herself. "Good. Good. Let´s go there. Now, please."

Ka D´Argo nodded. "We´re on our way, Pilot." He paused, looking around. "Wait." He signaled Aeryn and China to take positions. He had heard a scrabbling sound. Somewhere in the tunnels.

He readied his Qualta Blade. He walked silently, slowly passing his weight from one foot to the other. Finally, he located the origin of the sound. It came from a metal garbage container. He lowered his weapon and smiled crookedly.

"Flyers." It was indeed a white flyer, digging in the trash, looking for an easy meal. The animal extended its long wings in a menacing display. D´Argo saw no need to stay, and retreated carefully, not wanting to provoke the creature.

"Let´s go."

* * *

In a perfect world, Harvey walked around town. Having left behind his two companions, he had set to enjoy the illusory paradise John Chrichton´s mind had created, for as long as possible.

He stopped at a store, looking at the display of clothes. He lloked at the wares on sale, and smiled. A little effort of will, and a wallet materialized in his pocket.

A few minutes later, he came out of the store, wearing the most eye-watering of the shirts available. He chuckled to himself. Luckily for the rest of John Chrichton´s perfect little world in Instrumentality, there were no day-glo colors in the store.

"Of course, " he said to himself. "I could simply change my clothes to whatever I want, but _where_ would be the fun in that?"

He walked around main street, breathing deeply from the salty air, enjoying the breeze on his bald scalp. The best par was not having to worry about regulating his temperature. Keeping that delicate balance between his heat-generating scarran genes, and the heat-sensitive nature of Sebaceans had required severe modifications to his body, including the insertion of a device to insert cooling rods directly into his brain.

Being free of that infernal device was glory itself. He passed his fingers over his right temple, marveling once more of the smoothness of his skin.

He felt different from when he was prowling around in John´s memories. He felt like an unwelcome intruder there. And he was. His mission was to scour John´s memories and thoughts, looking for the secret of wormholes.

However, with time he had begun to actually enjoy the Earthling´s memories. They were so different from anything he could remember. There was a certain innocence in them. A... _joy_... even after everything he had come through since arriving at the other end of the universe, Chrichton enjoyed life to a degree Scorpius would never know. And now he, a neural clone of Scorpius himself, had access to all that paradise at the tips of his fingers.

It was overwhelming!

Delightful!

Glorious!

For Harvey, this illusory paradise was the best thing he could even imagine.

This time, he was a part of it, not an observer. Not a spy. Nor a thief.

Finally...

He...

What?

What was the word?

Harvey sat on a bench, leaned back, and put his arms over the back of the bench. He closed his eyes, thinking.

He felt something bump agains his foot. Looking down, he saw a yellow ball, and a four or five years old child walking towards him, followed closely by a woman who could only be his mother. The woman smiled at Harvey, and gently poked the boys back.

"Sorry, sir," the boy said, "Could you gimme back my ball?"

Harvey took the ball, and with a twist of his hand, made it spin on the tip of his index finger. A skill he had learned from watching John´s memories. The boy smiled widely at that simple trick.

"Here you go, kid." Harvey threw the ball back at the boy, who caught the toy and looked at it like it was the most wonderful thing on the world.

"What do we say to the nice gentleman, Corey?" The mother prodded gently at her son.

"Oh! Thank you, sir!"

The woman smiled, and waved goodbye to Harvey.

"Anytime, kid. Anytime." Mother and child kept walking, the kid trying and failing, to spin the ball over his finger.

Harvey sat back, thinking again.

"Oh, yes," he whispered. "It feels like I belong." He smiled. A genuinely pleased smile, not that mocking, crooked smirk Scorpius liked to use to intimidate enemies and allies both.

It was a very human gesture, Harvey thought.

* * *

 _ **Moya´s Bridge  
Geo-stationary Orbit above Florida USA**_

"Hrumph. This is more boring than waiting in my cell for a nice supper." Rygel mumbled.

Zhaan paid no attention to him. After three arns of vigil, Stark finally had begun to stir. The Banik´s breathing began to increase in depth and speed. "Stark, it´s me, Zhaan. You´re safe in Moya." She caressed his head with infinite care.

Stark´s uncovered eye opened suddenly. "Where´s John? Where´s the other people? I felt them, Zhann. Something horrible happened."

"We know. Aeryn, Chiana and D´Argo are looking into it."

"Where´s John?" a hint of hysteria tinged Stark´s voice. "I felt him go, but not the way it should. He is trapped."

"He…" Zhaan hesitated.

"What? Tell me, Zhaan!" Stark raised his voice for a moment. "Sorry." He shrank on himself, like a whipped slave. He hugged his legs and rocked back and forth. "It was too much." He calmed down, a bit.

Zhaan mixed one of her concoctions, and put the cup in Stark´s hands. "Drink this. It will help to calm you."

Stark took a sip, the bitter flavor hit his tongue, but he had drank far worse tasting things while he was a prisoner of Scorpius. He dranks deeply. "Please, Zhaan. I must know. I need to know what happened. Please."

Zhann took breath. "We don´t know exactly what happened, but I´ll tell you what we know. Remember, Aeryn, D´argo and Chiana are down on Earth, investigating. They are looking for an explanation, and maybe, a way to undo it."

Stark nodded. "I feel no danger at the moment. Whatever it was, it only affected humans, as far as I can tell. And it is over." He snuggled in the blanket Zhaan had put over him. He shook his head. "Their souls... are trapped." Stark shuddered, and wrapped hilself on the blancket a bit more tightly.

Rygel interrupted them. "The others are now flying to Chrichton´s base. So we better pay attention to them."

"Thanks, Rygel."

* * *

In a myriad of perfect worlds , an angry girl watched as a sad boy spied at the happiness of others; just looking, like a gott-damned masochistic voyeur.

 _Never_ daring to grab for himself whatever happiness he could.

Somewhow, whenever the boy fled from a perfect world to another, and she following after him again and again.

Sometimes, she found him, sometimes she didn´t; but she always knew where to go, when he was gone, and where he would end up next.

He always disappeared before she could reach him, but it was only a matter of time.

She would catch him.

* * *

 _ **Author Notes**_

The Collaroy is the shuttle that transported the Farscape 1 module to high orbit. It´s only seen during the Earth part of the Premiere episode. According to the Farscape Wiki, it was named after a beach in Sidney, Australia.

* * *

I´m not much of a sports fan at all. All info about the Miami Merlins and their stadium was taken from Wikipedia.


	6. It Was (Not) Just a Dream

_**A Whole New Universe (Of Problems)**_

* * *

 _ **Please Read and Review.**_ _I'd like to know what I'm doing right (to keep doing it), and what I'm I doing wrong (to correct it)._

* * *

 _ **Chapter 5**_

 _ **It Was (Not) Just a Dream**_

* * *

"What's wrong, dear?"

"I'm not sure, mom…" the dark haired girl answered, while playing with her penguin keychain. "I mean, everything is going great. You and dad are closer than I ever saw you. He even left his stuff from work back at home. The trip is great, and all, but…"

The older woman rested her hand on the rail, the sea breeze played with her long black hair. "It's a boy?" It wasn't exactly a question.

The girl furrowed her brow. "Yes." She paused, "I mean, no." She exhaled and shook her head, settling on looking at the horizon. "I don't really know."

"You can tell me, I'm your mother."

"I know, it's just… weird. I have been dreaming of a boy. He looks so… so sad."

"Where did you meet him? At school? At the park?"

"That's the weird part, mom. I haven't met him." She spread her arms expressively. "I just feel like I know him from somewhere, like I owe him more than I could ever repay, like I failed him in some awful way even; but I can't even remember his name. Each night I dream of him. And it breaks my heart seeing the look in his eyes."

"It's just a dream, dear." The woman hugged her daughter for a moment, and knowing she disliked to be hugged for too long, released her after a few seconds. "Don't let it bring you down. When your father told me we could finally go and tour Europe as he had promised me, I was so happy. But seeing you sad just because you're having bad dreams…"

The girl rested her elbows on the rail of the ship. "They are not bad… not really. Just sad. If you could see him… he looks so broken. Like he won't _ever_ smile again. And I just know he has a pretty smile. So friendly and warm."

"I guess the dreams will stop sooner or later, honey." Her mother passed an arm over her shoulders, almost hugging her.

"I'm not sure I want that." The girl closed her eyes, bowing her head.

"Have you tried to speak to him? In your dreams I mean?" The woman squeezed her daughter's hand. "Maybe if you can cheer him up in your dreams…"

"I've tried, but he just disappears when I get close to him." Frustrated, she tightened her grip on the rail, until her knuckles were almost white.

"Maybe you don't have to try harder, just look into his eyes and let him take the first step. Who knows? Maybe he's taking this same trip and you just don't remember seeing him aboard."

A long moment of silence followed, while she pondered about that. "Maybe." She looked at the horizon, where the sun was almost touching the sea, bathing the world with a beautiful fire.

"Now, if you find him on board, I'd like to meet this oh-so-mysterious boy who has caught your heart without even meeting you."

"Mom!" She was half scandalized and half eager at the very idea.

"And there it is! My beautiful daughter! Don't worry, dear. I was just the same at your age. I even wrote a couple of poems for a boy I didn't even had the chance to meet. Maybe I'll tell you that story when you're a little older."

The girl nodded, and kept silent. She didn't want to share the rest. There was more than just a recurrent dream.

There was another, a nightmare where she was older, close to thirty years old, and she and the sad boy were caught in the middle of a war. She was shot, and as she died, she tried to give the boy some hope so he would be willing to fight and save his life; but his spirit had been so crushed that he was like a puppet without strings.

She tried to help him find strength the only way her adult persona knew how. And she made him a promise she knew wouldn't be able to keep. Just to give him something to live for.

If there was any way, on heaven or earth, in hell or paradise, to keep her promise, she would.

But she had to find him first.

* * *

"C'mon, Uncle John! It's about to start!"

John let himself be dragged to the living room couch by his nephew.

"Chill down, Bobby. I'm sure there will be a couple of ads before the cartoon."

The child was really excited to watch a new episode of his favorite series. "So, as I was up on space a couple of weeks ago, and I don't know a thing about this show, how about you tell your favorite uncle what's it about."

"Space travel! Just like you and gramps do! But with more adventures and exploring planets!"

"I just hope it's better researched than _Silverhawks_ …" John mumbled. That one had been a source of many jokes between him and his father.

"Shh! It's about to begin!"

A rousing music played, while images of a strange ship, shaped like a mix of a waterdrop and some marine crustacean crossed the screen. Immediately, John sat straighter on his seat, feeling the hair on his arms stand on end.

There was something very familiar about that ship. And on the strange figure that appeared overimposed on the ship as it went away from the camera, a long, wrinkled face, with prominent yellow eyes, and a helmet-like crest over the ridged brow.

Then, a powerfully muscled figure jumped downwards from the top of the screen, while the camera spun around him, showing glimpses of the hands, arms, and face of the figure, too fast for him to really see the face.

The camera turned around, focusing on a lithe figure, blue in color, standing atop a mountain; extending her arms to the sky, her robe flapping in the wind. It was a woman, he could see no hair on her head, but the shape of her hips was evident. As the camera flew around her, a second figure was revealed, standing back to back with the blue woman. It was a thin, serious looking man, with an iron half-mask covering the right side of his face. The image centered into his left eye, closing up on it, until all the screen showed was the reflection of the surrounding mountain. Somehow, a group of spectral images appeared for a moment. The eye blinked, and the ghosts disappeared.

The camera zoomed down, travelling mountain down at breakneck speed, following a small figure, sitting on an elaborate floating chair, while the music reached a crescendo. The diminutive figure seemed to laugh, as he held some kind of scepter on his hands, and flailed left and right with it, throwing bolts of energy. A gray blur passed in front of the figure, and the camera followed it. A couple of second later, the blur revealed itself as an acrobatic young woman with chalk white skin and a contagious smile. She held a strangely designed gun in each hand, and shot once with each weapon.

The camera went back, giving a panoramic view of the group, converging around the first figure, who held his sword up high.

A bolt of lightning impacted against the bifurcated tip of the sword, the light finally revealing the central figure, a warrior dressed in red, with a strange beak instead of a nose; long tentacles jutted from his chin and the back of his head.

The warrior smiled at the camera, a smile full of determination and mirth.

The image froze, and the title of the show appeared at the bottom of the screen:

" _Ka D'argo and the Galaxy Lords  
In the Uncharted Territories_."

John Chrichton felt like the ground had split under him.

"It can't be…" he whispered, passing a hand over his suddenly dry mouth. "It can't be!"

Somehow, he realized he _knew_ those cartoon characters.

How? HOW?

He ran out the house, leaving behind a bewildered Bobby. "Uncle John? Where are you going?"

John jumped into his car, and drove off. He needed to think, and there was only one place in the world he felt was good enough for it.

* * *

Harvey's eyes snapped open. A jarring feeling had intruded into his happy musings.

"Oh, _c'mon_ , John!" angry and annoyed, he shook his head, "So soon? I had counted on at least two days more!"

He stood up and flagged a passing taxi.

"Where to, mac?" the driver asked, as soon as Harvey occupied the back seat.

* * *

 _ **Moya's Bridge  
Geo-stationary Orbit above Florida USA**_

"Yeah, sure, Stark. I think you have finally snapped. That mask must be cutting off the blood flow to your brain. Small as it is."

"I believe him, Rygel."

"Hah! Of course you do. I do not." Rygel set his lower jaw in a belligerent gesture. He produced a thin wafer from somewhere and began to munch on what Chrichton called 'cookies'. "A soul collector! Preposterous! And you say that Chrichton's is somewhere down there! Pfah! He got turned into goo. And he is right there!" Rygel pointed at the box.

Stark narrowed his eye. His face set on a scowl. "Believe whatever you want. I know what I'm talking about."

A crackle interrupted the argument. "Pilot? We're in."

Everybody's attention turned immediately to the comm.

Rygel spoke into his own comm. "Rygel here. Is that the right place?"

Chiana spoke. "We think so. Although I think there were some changes since Chrichton was last here."

"Like what? They repotted the plants?"

"No. It is the same as Chrichton described, but it's not IASA. I gues they changed the name or something. It says NASA. But the heraldic is more or less the same Chrichton said."

"I see. Anybody there?"

"Nope. Just empty clothes and orange goo." From the tone of her voice, it was clear Chiana was trying to be flippant about it. And it was just as clear that she was deeply disturbed by the place. "The place looks like everybody just went out at the same time. At least there's no fire. We saw several buildings burning in the nearby city. And there's smoke all over there."

* * *

The hunter turned around, looking for his flock. They were nowhere around, so he decided to look a little further.

He knew they were somewhere near.

He could almost feel them.

* * *

"You took your sweet own time to get here, John. I've been waiting for you for almost an hour. It was nice to watch the crew setting up the next shuttle launch; but after a while, it gets boring." The man wheezed. His head was down, but his eyes looked directly at John's. There was no hint of any fear in the man, although John was a bit taller and more muscular. This guy looked like the _After_ in a diet plan advertisement. And his eyes were strangely familiar. Unblinking, unwavering. Like their owner could get at the deepest secrets with just a look.

"Who the f… WHO THE HELL are you?" John looked angry and disoriented at the same time.

The thin man chuckled. "Don't you mean 'Who the _Frell_ are you?', John?"

Chrichton's jaw hung open. Stunned into silence. How did this strange guy in the most hideously clashing Hawaiian shit, bermudas, and sandals knew the word he had almost said?

"Sit, we have to talk for a while. You can call me Harvey."

"…Harvey…" That was the name on the tip of his tongue.

"Yes, yes, yes. I know. I must seem awfully familiar to you, and your brain is short-circuiting trying to place me in some old memory. You won't find me there. I just don't belong to any place you have known."

"Then where in the world…" John's eyes opened even more.

" _Nowhere_ in the world, John. That's where we met." He pointed directly upwards, and shrugged . Fnally, he averted his eyes. "Well, not exactly. You met another guy. Dressed in black leather armor."

John stumbled back onto his car, he sat heavily on the hood, his eyes looking in the distance. "…Scorpius…"

"The very same, John. Let me guess, your little _perfect_ world is showing cracks. Am I right?"

John passed a hand over his forehead. The dread was clear on his eyes and in his voice. "Ho… how do … you..?"

Harvey sat next to him. "Know? Because I do not belong here." He opened his arms expansively. "It's a nice place, I admit it. But it's not real. I know it. I am not real either."

John looked at him as if the man had sprouted the largest set of antlers in the world. Harvey sighed.

"All you see around you, except for myself, is an illusion, a _glamour_ , if you want to call it that way. Nothing but a false paradise designed to keep you trapped. It is not the perfect world. It is the perfect _jail_."

"Why? What did I do?"

"It's not about you, it's not personal. You were just caught in the aftermath. And I was caught with you."

Chrichton's brow furrowed.

"You are beginning to remember, aren't you, John?"

Before Harvey could say anything else, a fist impacted against his jaw, sending him to the ground. "YES! I REMEMBER NOW! HOW DID _YOU_ DO THIS?"

Harvey moved his jaw side to side. "I am not your enemy in this." He raised a conciliatory hand. "Actually, I was enjoying your little world. I wouldn't be here if you didn't want me here. Your own subconscious mind must have been the catalyst for my existence here. Otherwise, I wouldn't even be Jiminy Cricket's voice in your head, you would have been free of me. Forever and ever."

"Okay, okay." Chrichton began to pace around the car. "So this means that… that it was that weird girl who brought me here, right? The one with blue hair and red eyes." He sat on the hood again.

"Yes." Harvey picked himself up, and sat on the hood too, not too close to Chrichton.

"So, what's next?"

Harvey looked sideways at Chrichton. "We get out, of course."

"Yeah, sure. I just click the heels of my red shoes three time and say ' _There's no place like home.'_ three times."

"Of course not, don´t be absurd. I know for a fact you don't have any red shoes. Unless you count those Tasmanian Devil running shoes you had back in elementary school."

"Leave my memories ALONE, Harvey." Chrichton's voice rumbled dangerously.

Harvey waved a dismissive hand. "That's what I was made for, I can´t really help it. Anyway, I cannot watch them anymore, John. For as long as you and me are trapped here, we are separate entities."

John rubbed his knuckles. "Interesting point you are making, Harvey. Quite an interesting point indeed, Harvey. Shall we put that to the test, Harvey?" Chrichton arched his right eyebrow.

"There are more important matters to attend, I'd say." He rubbed his jaw again. "And I am willing to accept you have made a very valid point."

Chrichton passed his hands through his hair and shook his head ruefully. "I'm a mess… I have all I ever wanted here, and I wanna get back to Moya with the guys, and to the Uncharted Territories, and to all that… dren that's there."

"That's being human. Realizing that this is a false paradise gives one a new perspective, doesn't it? Even if you decide to stay here, the... taint... is already there."

"Yeaup…" Chrichton slapped his hands on his tighs. "Now, what do I hafta do to get out of here, Mr. Wizard?"

"I have a couple ideas." Harvey looked at the horizon. "How about we get something to eat and we discuss them?"

"Pizza?"

"I'm in the mood for a hamburguer."

"Hamburguers it is. Let's go."

* * *

 _ **Author Notes**_

Well… It seems this is one of those times where characters take control of the story. The way things are going, I feel the original direction I had thought will be drastically changed.

Meaning that, the classic pairing in Evangelion will be no more. I have already changed the pairings in the story summary. And I think it will be better for both characters.

* * *

Of course, that little cartoon show intro John and his nephew were watching was shamelessly ripped from the _Thundercats_ intro. Has there ever been any other intro with such dynamism?  
Personally, _Thundercats_ is the standard I measure other intros against.

 _Silverhawks_ on the other hand, had a good intro, but frankly, the level of research on how space and science works… the less it's said about it, the better (except for the epilogues, those were actually researched!). I think that for John and Jack Chrichton it would have been especially cringeworthy.

* * *

The landing team is referring to a very logical consequence of Third Impact. Without people in control, moving vehicles are going to crash everywhere. And unattended fires will get out of control sooner than later. Not like in a zombie apocalypse, where the disease spreads over a relatively longer period. Sure, there will be both accidents and fires, but not so many.


	7. I Do(n't) Wanna Go

_**A Whole New Universe (of Problems)**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter 7  
I Do(n't) Wanna Go**_

* * *

 _ **Author Notes:**_

Before anything else, I owe you readers an apology. I had a nasty case of writer's block with this story, and it took too long to solve it.

In other news, my surgery is scheduled for tomorrow, so I will be out of reach of my laptop for a couple of days. This chapter is a bit rushed for that reason. I'll return to edit it (and remove these ANs) once I'm back home and able to write and do the research.

 **Update:** I have been released from the Hospital, and I´m currently recuperating back at home.  
Chapter edited for typos and additional dialogue: September the 10th, 2019

 _ **Please Read and Review.**_ I'd like to know what I'm doing right (to keep doing it), and what I'm doing wrong (to correct it).

* * *

 _ **Geo-stationary Orbit; Above Florida, USA  
**_ _ **Moya's Bridge**_

"No."

"Have you gone completely fahrbot? There is no reason for us to stay in this ridiculous planet! I say we should close the hatches and leave as soon as the others come back." The deposed Hynerian Dominar moved his hover throne until his face was eyebrows to eyebrow with the mentally disturbed Banik.

"No! John is lost but will find his way back! He always does!" Unlike his usually skittish behavior, this time Stark wasn't willing to yield a single henta.

"Crichton is dead! That strange girl turned him into orange goo! He is in that box over there! Along with whatever dirt he picked up while Aeryn was moping him up!" Rygel pointed one of his stubby little fingers towards the storage locker in question. "I saw it happen with my own two eyes! He's not coming back, get that in that hard head of yours! We should go as soon as the others come back to Moya. This place is starting to creep me out."

Stark raised his voice too. "I know what you saw! I felt it as it happened! Several _million_ _ **TIMES!**_ _ALL AT_ _ **ONCE!**_ " He was starting to get really agitated, patting his own chest repeatedly to emphasize his point. "That in the box is just matter, it doesn't matter! What matters is no matter at all! No matter matters! Matter doesn't matter! Matter, no matter! No matter matters!" He kept on tapping his chest repeatedly to emphasize his point.

The Banik looked at their blue-skinned companion, "John will come back, Zhaan." He seemed to relax a bit. "He needs time to find his way. We _must_ wait."

Pilot spoke before Zhaan could answer. "Moya informs me there are several maintenance routines she would really like to enact. She has not detected any ships in our wake. Most probably we lost them a few starbursts ago. So we should be fairly safe while the DRDs work."

"Pilot. How long would that require? How important is it?" The Delvian priestess asked, hoping to get some peace.

"Moya says the most basic maintenance would take about 30 arns. Three solar days for a deeper check. About thirty solar days for the best maintenance she can do by herself outside of a drydock." Before Rygel or Stark could add anything, Pilot continued, his image bobbing up and down the holo-shell as his four arms manipulated the controls at his station, "I must stress that Moya is in urgent need of a deep check. We have been running almost non-stop for a long time. She needs the rest, and frankly, so do we."

Zhaan exhaled a controlled breath. She looked at Stark first, who nodded; and then at Rygel, who simply snorted and turned his head away imperiously. "Very well, Pilot. Patch me through with Aeryn and D'Argo. This is not a decision to take lightly."

Stark exhaled a lungful of air, and sat on the floor, next to the chains he had been recently wrapped in. He closed his eye and began to hum a strange melody. It sounded like one of those annoying non-sensical songs Crichton liked to sing whenever he was feeling really happy or really stressed. At least it wasn't that awful noise he called The Flight of the Valkiries, she thought, only to find herself remembering it. She rubbed her neck tiredly. "Great… now I have the tune bouncing inside my head. And I have no idea of where in Earth could be Jupiter and Mars, or why spring would be different there…"

* * *

 _ **Instrumentality  
Tokyo-3**_

"If I cant have all of you, I don't want any of you." She said. Her words detonated a series of emotions in him.

In a perfect duplicate of Misato Katsuragi's apartment, an angry boy argued with an angry gril. He was in no mood for another round of recriminations, and he wasn't even sure the girl was actually real.

Finally, he had no place to run to.

He was forced to confront his own emotions, vague and confusing as they were.

Rejection, longing, anger, confusion, fear, grief, pain, desire, hope.

All spilled like water from a broken dam, a violent flood that could only have a result.

He begged for help, for some attention. He was at the end of the rope, and a long fall in the abyss waited for him to lose his grip.

"No." she said.

He trembled. His head down, his eyes closed and his voice broken and raw in desperation.

Finally, after a long series of traumas, he broke.

He grabbed the girl by the neck, and tightened his fingers around it.

* * *

 _ **Instrumentality  
Fast Food Restaurant Near Cape Canaveral**_

"So, what the hell do I need to do to get out of this place?" Crichton asked his colorfully dressed companion.

While Harvey collected his thoughts to answer, a kid in the next booth stood up on his seat, grinned at Crichton and said, "You get up and go thru that door, mister." Helpfully, the kid pointed at the door of the fast-food joint Crichton and Harvey had gone to.

"Very good, little one, now sit down and eat your burger." Harvey smiled at the boy, tilting his cup in a complicit salute. The kid obeyed, with a cheeky grin on his face.

Meanwhile, Crichton had rolled his eyes with annoyance. He waited until Harvey finished draining the last gulps of his jumbo-sized drink. "Done?", he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Done." Harvey stood up, collected their trash, and deposited in the garbage bin. As they walked out, he turned to the boy, who was watching them intently; pointed at the door, and made a big show of opening it and pushing Crichton out. Once outside, he resumed his serious demeanor. "Well, John; I have been thinking on that, and I can see two ways out of this lotus machine."

"Go on."

Harvey sighed, and discreetly put a couple of extra feet of distance between him and Crichton. "The first is the easiest to implement. Though I am not sure of the result."

"Go on. I have the feelin' I am not going to like it."

"Right on the first try. No, I don't think you will like it. You'd have to die. Either of old age or by violence."

Crichton arched an eyebrow. "Yeah, sure. I die here and wake up back in Moya. Riiight. I already watched that movie, thank you very much. I don't want to Goundhog Day my life for who knows how long."

"True, although knowing that this place is an illusion _should_ snap you back in the real world. But maybe your deep desires would merely bring you back here, maybe even without knowledge of the real nature of this place; and most probably, without me to help you."

Crichton balanced his hands, palms up, weighting the results. "Uuuhh… Maybe that would be worth it."

Harvey snorted. "Maybe. We would be free of each other, though non-existence would be a high price for me to pay. No. I don't think we should try that one."

"Okay, what about the other?"

"I think it has the best chances of success, but also the highest difficulty. I am not sure you can muster that kind of will. Simply put, you have to do better than any Buddhist monk and renounce this world."

Thoroughly annoyed, Crichton looked at Harvey sideways. "What about you?"

Harvey shrugged, "I will either go back to be your personal conscience at the back of your mind, or I will achieve Nirvana and cease to exist. Personally, I'd prefer the former option, I still have not fulfilled my mission."

"…Great… I'd like to buy a few vowels then."

In all the Uncharted Territories, Harvey the Neural Clone was the only being who could have understood the reference. And what Crichton had meant by using it.

* * *

 **Instrumentality  
Cruiser Ship, Somewhere in the Mediterranean Sea.**

A young girl looked at the sea, standing on the forward deck of the ship. Her thoughts spinning around the boy she saw in her dreams. She knew she had promised something to him, but couldn't remember what it was. The only thing she could remember was that it was really important.

Her eyes locked on the North Star, its twinkling light seemed to wink at her, with the promise of a single fulfilled wish. She sighed, more than anything else, she wanted to be with that unknown boy.

A moment later, the world disappeared.

* * *

 _ **Instrumentality  
South Pole**_

The hunter was tired, he had swam and waddled a long distance since he had decided to look for the rest of his rookery. He stood on the compacted ice for a few minutes, until he decided it would be a good time to sleep. He set his head down, closed his eyes and fell asleep. His last thought was to go to his companions.

A moment later, the world disappeared.

* * *

 _ **Cape Canaveral, Florida, USA  
**_ _ **NASA HQ**_

Chiana sat on one of those rolling chairs (one free of orange stains, of course), and entertained herself by spinning herself slowly, while she looked at Ka D'Argo and Aeryn Sun argue about what to do next.

"Maybe we should go to wherever that giant girl is, and try to communicate with her. And if she's not forthcoming, we might have to try and force her to tell us how to recover Crichton or to do it herself." D'Argo was busy polishing his Qualta Blade, and checking it would be functional. More as a way to pass the time than any real need to check it worked.

Aeryn Sun kept silent for a few microts, weighting D'Argo's suggestion. "Not yet. I'd prefer to leave that for last. At her size, I don't know if we can communicate with her, or harm her."

Chiana stopped her spinning, "Yeah, I don't want to get close to her. She could swat us from existence as if we were nothing, so if you wanna go there, leave me up in Moya. Or down here. Even that would be preferable to being slapped off the face of the universe by a hand that can cause eclipses by itself."

Both her friends looked at her. It was D'Argo who spoke first. "Good point." He shrugged. "So, what do we do in the meanwhile?"

"I don't know, D'Argo." Aeryn admitted.

"Well," Chiana tilted her head. "I don't know about you two, but I am tired, hungry and creeped out. I vote we eat something, then go back to the ships, and then rest."

"I agree with Chiana, I want to get Crichton back too, but we won't be able to even find what happened to him if we get ourselves too tired." After a long pause, Aeryn nodded. Softly, D'Argo added, "I'll take the first turn. Chiana, you take the second."

"But…"

"You take the second turn. Aeryn need to rest more than you or me."

"Yeah, I agree, it's just that we should get something to eat first. I ate all the crackers I got from the machine." She brushed off the last crumbs that had fallen on her clothes.

D'Argo groaned.

* * *

 _ **Japan  
Tokyo-3 Bay**_

Nine white monsters foated immobile above the water, each and everyone of them had a strange weapon stuck into their bodies, more or less in the place a human being would have the heart. Silently, they circled around a humanoid monstruosity, also impaled through by a red two pronged weapon.

An eerie silence reigned supreme, broken only by the sound of the waves crashing on the beach. The water was tinged an orange reddish color. A giant naked body kneeling in the deepest water of the bay looked blindly ahead, a strange smile parted her lips, while her crimson eyes looked blindly ahead. A red sphere floated between her hands, holding the souls of all living creatures in the world. Each and everyone of them lost in their own version of paradise.

Not a single creature stirred in the land or the air or the sea.

The androgynous features of the giantess changed subtly, her bluish-silvery hair darkened into a shade of blue that seemed almost like the sky.

At a lonely train station, several kilometers away, a teenage girl stood at a street cross. She wore a school uniform consisting of a white blouse and a blue skirt. Black shoes and white socks completed her attire.

She looked wistfully at a group of payphones. She stood there, immobile, for a long time, as if she was waiting for somebody to arrive and use the phones.

* * *

 _ **Instrumentality  
John Crichton's House, Near Cape Canaveral.  
**_

"Okay, Harvey. I'm laying comfortably, my eyes are closed. Now what?"

The neural clone occupied a lawn chair, next to the prone John Crichton. He breathed deeply before speaking. "Focus on your memories, John. Begin with Moya. Remember your arrival."

"Okay." Crichton's brow furrowed in concentration. He nodded, still with his eyes closed. "Got it."

"Now, remember Officer Sun." A little while later, Crichton nodded again.

The pair went down the list of Moya's passengers. Associating each one with both memories and emotions.

John spoke little. Mostly he nodded at Harvey to continue whenever he felt he had remembered enough of each of his friends.

The astronaut relaxed more and more with each memory. He felt as if he could reach t them and touch them. He smiled at the emotions he felt.

A moment later, the world disappeared.

* * *

 _ **Instrumentality**_

A long talk with an avatar of Rei Ayanami finally calmed down Shinji's anger. He took the biggest decision of his life.

The biggest decision anybody had taken in the long and twisted history of Mankind.

He chose.

To live.

He chose.

To leave.

He would take his chances back in the real world.

A moment later, Instrumentality as SEELE had planned to be, disappeared.

* * *

 _ **Geo-stationary Orbit; Above Florida, USA  
**_ _ **Moya's Bridge**_

"Something is happening. Moya is sensing a wave of what she describes as emotion." Pilot reported through the comms.

"Now what?" asked Rygel, turning his throne around to look through the observation windows.

Zhaan fell to her knees, hugging herself, while Stark wept freely.

"I don't know what it is, but it comes from the other side of the planet!" Pilot reported.

"Pilot! Get us out of here! Starburst now!" Rygel ordered.

"We can't! Moya wants to stay! She says it's something pure. Something good!"

At the other side of the world, nine white monsters floated around a purple abomination. A being created to supplant God.

The purple monster ripped out the weapon that pierced its body, and with that simple move, undid decades of planning.

Instrumentality was not eternal anymore.

* * *

 _ **Tokyo-3 Bay**_

Shinji Ikari emerged from the Sea of Souls. He felt at peace, but only relative to the maelstrom he had been subjected to the previous days.

He waded to dry land, leaving behind the monstruous head of Lilith, still showing the face of Rei Ayanami.

He looked around at the devastation that surrounded him, wondering if in the end, returning to the real world had been worth the price he would have to pay. He watched for long seconds at the nine white statues half buried in the bay.

He opened his left hand, and realized that, even after everything that had happened in that strange realm beyond life and death and rebirth, he still held Misato's silver cross.

He would never forget her. For all her flaws, and for all his own flaws, she had loved him, and he had loved her. He wasn't sure of what kind of love it was, or even if it was the same for both, but the purple haired woman would forever live in his heart. He would remember her as a friend, as a sister, as an officer, as a woman. And who knows what else.

He wept hot tears at her memory, still clutching that simple silver cross.

Finally, he hung the cross from a simple nail, from a simple wooden post still standing on the beach. He didn't need to put her name or any dates on it. He knew for whom that simple memorial was. That was enough. Somehow, it made a very intimate connection.

Tired, Shinji lay down on the sand, looking at the darkening sky.

He grimaced when he saw the full moon, stained by a long red streak. The stain was the color of freshly spilled blood. He didn't know how it had come to be, and decided he didn't want to know. He closed his eyes, and in a moment, he fell asleep.

He hadn't rested in a long time. Not really. These last days before he had killed the world his sleep had been haunted by nightmares.

Tonight, there were no dreams. Good nor bad.

And Shinji Ikari finally rested.

* * *

 _ **Between Instrumentality and Reality**_

John Crichton floated in an orange nothingness. He could feel Harvey's presence close by. He realized he was in between realms, and focused his will on the need to return to reality.

To a universe that was not perfect in any way

But was perfect in all the ways that really mattered.

* * *

Misato Katsuragi floated in an orange nothingness. She could feel the boy she had been dreaming about, he was somewhere, close. Very close.

She focused on her need to see him in the flesh.

To fulfill her promise to him, whatever it had been.

* * *

Pen Pen floated in an orange sea. He could feel the missing members of his rookery.

He swam faster. He needed to see them. To know they were well.

* * *

 _ **Tokyo-3 Bay**_

Shinji Ikari awoke from his sleep. He turned around, and to his mild surprise, saw he had company.

Somehow, during that silent night, the shade of Asuka Langley Soryu had materialized next to him.

For some reason, that ghost wore an eyepatch and its right arm was wrapped in bandages from hand to shoulder. Seeing her uncovered, unmoving, dull eye convinced him it was merely a trick of his own mind. The real Asuka wouln't stay there, immobile, silent. Indifferent to everything. No. She would yell. She would scream. She would slap him. Curse him. She would do _something_.

He straddled its body. He wouldn't suffer another diatribe from a figment of his imagination. This was his world now. He put his hands on the throat, and squeezed. Sobbing as he did so.

* * *

John Crichton broke the surface of the orange sea, wiped the orange tinted water off his face, and breathed deeply. In front of him, he saw a lonely beach. He had no idea of where he was or how he had arrived there. But there was somebody on the beach.

"Wait… what is goi…" he interrupted himself when he realized there were two people on the beach, and one of them seemed to be strangling the other! He ran out of the water, and towards the two figures. He didn't know what was happening there, but he wouldn't be made a witness to murder!

* * *

Nothing else existed for Shinji. Only the unwelcome imitation of the girl who had been… what? He wasn't sure of exactly what Asuka Langley Soryu had been for him anymore. Love? Friend? Rival? Enemy?

It didn't matter, this was not her. This was just a ghost. He squeezed harder, putting all his weight to the task.

It simply looked up, not even seeing him.

* * *

He didn't notice when she had lifted her hand. Slowly, it came up from under him. Until she could cup his cheek with the palm of her bandaged hand.

The unexpected contact broke Shinji's resolve.

He slowly relaxed his grip on her throat. Hot tears came unbidden to his eyes, falling on Asuka's face.

* * *

Her eye focused.

Shinji was above her. Somehow they had returned. She knew they were back in the world. There was a dull pain in her left eye and on her right arm. She remembered the wounds those gott-damned EVA series monsters had done to her with their weapons.

She remembered being eaten alive.

* * *

"I feel sick." She said.

* * *

Before Shinji could even think about what she had said, he felt something very heavy impacting his body. He rolled on the sand, completely disoriented. He felt two big hands grabbing his wrists from behind, immobilizing him. A rough voice spoke to him, he could recognize some words, but his English had never been too god.

* * *

John Crichton held the skinny teenager down under him to keep the boy from attacking or fleeing. He didn't know what had happened, but he would be damned if he allowed this pocket-sized murderer to get him by surprise.

A voice brought him back from his thoughts.

"John? The girl seems to be more or less fine. She seems to be traumatized, but physically, she will recover."

"Thanks, Harvey. I'll tie up this little maniac and…" He turned around, to find the most unexpected sight of all.

Harvey carrying the semi-unconscious girl.

"What the frell..?"


End file.
